I have not seen things in the same way since returning from Amsterdam, November of 1996. Nor have I gotten a satisfying explanation as to the experience suffered by or befallen me in room 55 of the Hotel van Onna. Let me admit or confess, firstly, that drugs were involved.
There was madness in any direction, at any hour. You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. And that was the handle -that sense of inevitable victory over Old and Evil